Rule One and One Half
by theps118confessional
Summary: "Look:" I swallowed, "I think it'd be best if we laid out some ground rules." She snorted. "Okay, fine, Arnold. Rule Number 1; I'm not making up rules with you." She rolled her eyes, turning around. "Rule 1 and 1/2:" she looked back to me, eyes meeting mine. There was no smirk anymore, but the twinkle of amusement still relentlessly shone in her eyes "don't fall in love with me."


This is a prequel to my fic Kidnapping, Match-making, And Everything in Between. I think this will be far more interesting if you've read that, but to each their own! Nothing in this requires that you've read it. But if you have read it, then you may skip this next warning, if you haven't, proceed with caution:

 _this is not a love story._

* * *

 **September 7th 2005**

I always had the cabinet in his bathroom open. It was convenient, of course. I could get whatever I needed whenever I needed it. And if it kept me from staring at the way my head still had the sharp edges on the sides, and the small smear of breakouts just under my chin...that was good too.

And besides, it hardly mattered. I didn't really have a reason to stare at myself. Even doing my hair just wasn't worth it. Even if I combed it, it was tamed for maybe twenty minutes...thirty tops. Then it reverted, springing out in whichever direction it pleased, by the time my bus made it to school.

I thought that the level of obnoxiousness possible for teenagers reached it's maximum during their sophomore year. I thought sophomores were annoying when I was a freshman last year, and I thought they were annoying now.

My ankles were aching as I sat under the tree at school, waiting for Gerald's bus to get in. I spotted him then, trotting down the steps of the bus, surrounded by other guys, laughing at whatever he was talking about. Gerald towered over most of them. He had grown steadily as we got older, and was amongst the tallest of their class. I had stayed short…frustratingly so. Just a few more inches and I'd be passably tall..I didn't need to be a giant. I certainly didn't need to be Gerald. Just, maybe taller than...

"Sup," someone flopped on the grass next to me. Blonde hair, frayed at the ends, was splayed out on the grass, and Helga Pataki was grinning up at me.

"Hey," my chest lightened a little bit at the sight of her, her chapped upper lip and gap in her teeth. It was still warm in late September, she was wearing ripped up jean shorts with bizarre patches all over them and a hoodie for something I didn't recognize. Time had changed her in every way and somehow not at all. She was still bold, and loud and funny and confident and now she was beautiful but maybe she always was. At some point in time she just started making my chest tighten and I couldn't pin-point the moment when, but I knew it was arguably one of the most annoying things in my life. And I had fucked it up, again, the EXACT same way I had the last time. It took me so long to figure out how bad I had it for her, that by the time I had figured it out, she had, well-

"Mornin!" Lila smiled from above me, sitting gracefully next to Helga. The perfect reminder, of what happens when you just _let_ girls get over you. It was fantastic, it really was, that the two of them had become friends. I just _loved_ when my romantic failures teamed up together. Lila was still irrefutably beautiful, thick, pale, freckled limbs and big eyes. She was just no Helga, no cracking wit or sparkling sense of mirth under every innocent look. Helga who, once she started to amaze me, never seemed to stop. Helga worked her butt off to try and get us to San Lorenzo, but it failed at the last minute. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't anyone's. It just wasn't the time, I supposed. Still, ever since...she astounded me, and I had literally no idea what to do about it.

Lila had her burnt red hair up in a messy bun but she was still wearing a skirt. That mystified me. Phoebe had walked over with them, but stayed standing, eyes on Gerald, who was crossing the field to them. He waved to the guys behind him, splitting in different paths. I couldn't help but be grateful. I had no idea what to say to Gerald's basketball friends.

"Hello, you-" Gerald greeted Phoebe by kissing her gently. It was quite the reach for him, she was a short girl, "hello all." he greeted the rest of us. He looped his arms around her neck and stood behind her. "New sweatshirt, Pataki?" Gerald being casual friends with Helga still sometimes made my head spin, but so did the fact that by most people's considerations, he was _also_ friends with Helga.

"It's Mike's," Lila said in a sing-songy voice, poking her in the tummy. I tried not to let his throat tighten. He had seen this Mike guy around, around Helga, even. But this was the first time someone had acknowledged it. He didn't mind it being an unspoken thing in their background, this new guy in school with a keen interest in her.

"I don't know, Helga," Gerald looked wary. "I don't really like that guy."

"Nobody does," Helga grinned as if that were a good enough reason to start dating him. It was true. He was brand new to the school, and he picked fights like nobody else, talked back to any adult… and seemingly, only liked Helga, out of everybody in their entire school.

"He's over there now, Helga," Phoebe mentioned with a giggle.

I looked up. Mike, with his thick brown hair tossed just so, was sitting on a set of emergency exit steps, watching Helga. I thought he was tool. He was a tool. Because he was sitting on emergency exit steps. Ever heard of fires, Mike?

He wouldn't approach the group of them, he never did. He waited for her to come to him.

"Is he shy?" Lila asked Helga.

"No, he just hates people." Helga began to shove herself up from the ground. Gerald reached down a helpful hand to her.

"You hate people," Gerald reminded her as he helped her up, irony clearly not missing on him as he caught my eye and rolled his own. Helga stood up, dusting off her long legs, and I- I looked straight back to her face.

"Isn't it perfect?" She grinned doggishly.

 **September 21st 2005**

"You're trying too hard." Helga told me with exasperation as we sat next to each other in English class. I rolled my eyes. I was grateful to have any class with Helga, but it being English and her being perfect at creative writing was proving somewhat exhausting.

"Since when is trying bad?!" I insisted, reaching for my paper. It was supposed to be a short poem, not a dissertation, for Christ's sakes.

"When it produces this garbage," she taunted lightly, blue eyes sparkling as she held the paper just out of my reach. I gave her a flat look, dropping my hand, knowing she enjoyed that she was _still_ taller than me.

"Well, can I see yours?" I made a grabby hand for the paper on her desk. She smacked my hand out of the way.

"No, it's garbage too." She shoved her paper in towards herself protectively. That was, of course a lie, because we were barely a month into our honors English course and she was clearly soaring above everyone else in the class. She was a perfectionist, especially when it came to this stuff, and I found it oddly endearing.

"Well, great." I sat back in my seat, with a good natured smirk. I crossed my arms, and announced grandly: "Here we are. The King and Queen of trash."

"We shall rule over our kingdom with great care." She replied solemnly, pressing a hand to her heart. I guwaffed then, ducking my head when I got a good ol' glare from good ol' Ms. Wakefield.

 **October 31st 2005**

"Say cheese!" Phoebe announced emphatically, holding up her phone to an apathetic Helga. I was sitting next to her on Gerald's couch while Gerald went round and round in the kitchen in an argument with his parents.

"Say cheese to what?" Helga gave the phone a major stink-eye. My collar was itching in the warmth of the cranked-up heat. Mrs. Johanssen always had it was up before the Mister got home because he'd inevitably turn it back off. I hadn't come in a costume, Helga had hit me for it.

"Helga," Phoebe gave her an irritated look over the top of the phone, "my mom let me borrow her phone," oh, so it wasn't her phone, after all- "and it takes pictures."

Helga squinted at it "this thing? Takes pictures?"

"You sound like my Grandpa," I told her with a grin. She smacked me with her very dramatic sleeve. A vampire, witch, kind of thing, or at least I thought so. It seemed like Halloween costumes were starting to blur more and more together.

She laughed a moment after, maybe at the face I made as I pieced that puzzle together, and Gerald's parents, did, finally, leave, with a somewhat flimsy compromise of Jamie O being a makeshift, terrible chaperone.

We didn't do a whole lot of anything, truthfully, hopping from one bad horror film to another amidst arguments about what actually constitues scary. Helga ditched the witches' hat quickly, but kept the dress, and it sparkled when she moved under the dim lights just so. Her hair was pressed down to her head, just a little bit greasy, but I couldn't help but want to run my fingers through it anyway. She had it tucked behind her ears and she kept grinning at me and I wouldn't have dared to kiss her, but I thought about it on a near constant loop.

I kept waiting for the bomb to drop, that she was going to Mike's soon, as she did more and more often, the entire night. It never came. The night spun by, creating this little web of beers bought by Jamie O drank in Gerald's living room and watching scary films and Helga's arm pressed into mine and I thought I might be able to live my entire life with that dizzying, warm feeling whirring around in my chest, and I'd be happy.

 **November 11th 2005**

"You're late, Pataki-" My head snapped up at the sound of her name. Helga was skipping class more and more often, now. When she wasn't skipping entirely, she was late or left early and in class collaboration was growing thinner and thinner. I felt like I hadn't seen her properly in a week or so, not since Halloween. She didn't sit with us at lunch anymore. She seemed especially tired that morning. She was wearing a leather jacket that couldn't possibly be hers. It was too big, falling off her shoulders and her hands. Her hair was in this messy, high pony tail, and she had great big bags under her eyes.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for observational skills," Helga huffed as she slammed her backpack down on her desk.

I blinked with surprise, looking back and forth between her and Ms. Wakefield. I shut my mouth, realizing it was hanging open. Helga glanced down at me, mouth quirking up at the corner, and winked. Ms. Wakefield was an interesting shade of fuschia.

Her little up-turned nose seemed to go higher in the air than I thought possible when she said, "Sit down, Ms. Pataki."

"Ay-ay, Captain," She saluted with two fingers and a grin as she sat down. I felt a snort coming before I could do anything about it. Ms. Wakefield set down the papers in her hand with a cold stare.

"And see me after class," she threatened coldly. When she looked at me with the same death glare, I shut up immediately.

 **December 5th, 2005**

"Has anyone heard from Helga this week?" Lila tapped her pink razr phone against their cafeteria table nervously. I shrunk more into myself, fiddling with the bag of chips in my hand that I didn't really want to eat except I did want to eat them because for some reason my body wanted me to eat everything at the moment.

"Yes," Phoebe sat forward, exchanging a nervous look with Gerald. "She thought the suspension was light, all things considered."

Considering she and her dumb, awful, boyfriend lit up all the trees in the quad with christmas lights shaped to be penises, yeah, three days wasn't that bad.

"Do you think it'll chan-" change anything was what Lila was going to say, but Gerald interrupted her before she got there.

"No." Gerald answered calmly, shoveling another forkful of chicken into his mouth.

She wasn't coming back to the table, that's what he meant by that.

 **December 23rd 2005**

I didn't want to be home for this Christmas.

It's not like I had anything to miss, truthfully. I had next to no memories of my parents to begin with, so it's not as if a normal Christmas were ever truly within my reach. Christmas, like other choice holidays of the year, still stung. I thought about texting Gerald. He had plans to see a Christmas movie with Phoebe's family. I couldn't blame him, at all, for the time he spent with his girlfriend, because I knew I literally wouldn't care in the slightest if I had a girlfriend.

But I didn't, so there was that.

The wind felt like it was trying to rip a hole into my cheek when I rounded the corner, and smashed into someone.

"OH GODDAMNIT," they yelled, neither shrilly or deeply,

"I'm sorry," I reached for their carton before it flew away. It was a specific brand of cigarettes in my hand, expensive ones. The kind that were the only passable thing to have anymore, really. "I wasn't paying enough attention." I rolled the box over in my hand, offering it up.

"Of course you weren't, Football head." A smug voice said above me. My eyes jerked up immediately. There she was, red lips and tired eyes and a bright red hat shoved over messy blonde hair. Her breath just barely reached my nose, smelling faintly of cigarettes and cinnamon.

"Helga," I breathed, watching my breath swirl in front of me. "Hey."

"Thank you," she took the cigarettes from my fingers.

We spent a few holidays together in some sort of quiet solidarity. The lone wolf and black sheep, belong together, in some sort of way. I opened my mouth, wondering where she was going, why she was smoking, what her plans were. If she wanted to take a walk or get drunk, or do anything. Her lipstick was smudged at the corner of her mouth, I wanted to reach out and fix it. I felt overtly warm despite the cold weather, shifting in front of her.

"Merry Christmas, Arnold," she tapped my cheek with a gloved hand, before shoving it back into her pocket and turning on heel.

I didn't know exactly how he messed that up, but I was certain it was somehow my fault.

 **February 08th 2006**

A resounding thud smacked down next to me, and I nearly jumped a foot in my seat. I dropped my pen, jerked so quickly out of my work. I had been speeding away, didn't even notice my teacher approach to the desk next to mine. I had fallen asleep early last night, and was rushing his assignment that was due at the end of that class.

"PATAKI," A booming voice reprimanded, and I winced as I looked to my right. Helga was picking her head up off her desk. Her cheek stuck to her paper for just a minute, betraying her cool demeanor with a flush of deep pink. Her lips were open just slightly, her eyes glazy with post sleep confusion. I felt guilt swirl in my chest. Normally I poked her if she was nodding off, which was more often than not lately. "You're sleeping in my class."

"Well, shit, Nancy Drew," she coughed into her hand, sniffed loudly, rubbing her hand on her face. I felt my heart rate pick up at her swear, how could she look so calm? "Nothing gets past you." She ran a hand through her hair with a cheeky smile, ignoring it getting stuck in the tangles.

"Principal's Off-"

"Office. Now?" Helga quirked up a thick eyebrow, her smile raising high on one side. "Gladly." She replied snappily. She grabbed her books as she slid out of her seat, slipping past our teacher. She crossed the room the opposite side of the door, and our teacher began a small protest.

"Relax, Debbie- I'm just throwing my gum out." She dropped something into the garbage can. "After all, have to make a good impression at my big date at the Principal's," she turned around and winked. I knew it wasn't for me, not at all. I could pretend it was, though. "Later, squares," she smirked at the room before shoving out the door.

"Now, class, that that distraction is over with, please make sure your assignment for today includes at leas three references to-"

And then, there was shrieking, because the garbage can was on fire.

 **March 12th 2006**

"Helga!" I saw her and called out before even thinking about it. She was moving pretty quickly down the hall, but I supposed my voice must have stopped her in her tracks. I did a somewhat embarrassing half-jog to catch up. She had left that class that one day, our honors English course, and never returned.

"Arnold," she glanced down at me haughtily. I rubbed my hands on my jeans, because they were suddenly clammy and I had no idea why but it was very gross.

"I've missed you," I coughed as my jog slowed to a walk beside her. She had long legs, she walked fast. "In English."

"Yea, well," she snorted, "get used to it."

"What do you mean?" I quirked my head to the side, fixing my backpack on my shoulder.

"They pulled me out because of low attendance, and some other bullshit.. Back to the plebeians I go." She rolled her eyes, then fussed with the books she had in a mussed pile in front of her. She, with a little bit of effort, dug out a worn, green spiral notebook. "Here." She practically threw it into my arms. "Use this, it's good."

Worn into it was greying black ink, nearly three quarters of the book was filled. Undoubtedly her short story project, the class' final project, which was due at the end of the semester.

"Helga, I can't take thi-"

"It's of no use to me now, Arnold." She stopped sharply, eying the woman's bathroom. It sort of shot me through the chest, because I had a feeling she had no use of it other than it was a sure-fire place I couldn't follow her. Fine. I got the message, loud and clear. "Later." She shoved into it, losing a few papers, not caring at all.

I stared at them, thought about picking them up.

I swallowed thickly, and turned around, because my class was actually in the other direction and now I was going to be late.

 **June 9th 2006**

"So," Gerald small-talked to me as we strode down the street. "You can take your license test soon."

"Yep."

Summer couldn't come soon enough, as far as I was concerned. Hanging out with his school friends was becoming more and more miserable, because I was the one making everyone miserable. I hated that more than the misery thing. Yet, I couldn't seem to convince myself to cut it the hell out. Helga had, seemingly, permanently removed herself from our crew. Lila was moping because of that fact, and I wasn't bitter, I was just…

Bitter.

"Plans for this summer, man?"

I took too long to come up with a lie. Moping around the boarding house could probably be considered a hobby? Right? Gerald saw right through me when I opened my mouth, making me snap it shut with a hard look.

"You need a hobby, man." Gerald told me, at his own crossroads in between fair and unkindly. I looked at him crossly, not particularly appreciating the bossiness from my best friend, when I could have just used a plain and simple best friend. He opened his flip phone, pulling up a text from a friend, or something. I didn't know. I didn't know the contact name, and no, there was no burning jealousy in my chest at that. He thrust the phone into my hands, forcing my to read the text about baseball try-outs for a summer league near-by.

And then, I couldn't help but notice that Gerald was a little bit right, and feel a little bit guilty for even being mad in the first place.

 **August 30th 2006**

This was getting ridiculous. I could drive a car, now. Had a shiny key in my hand and everything, as I rolled my sleeves up and then put them down because I felt silly. I needed a hair-cut, but I ruffled it back just the same. I could drive a car, could change my oil, could install a lighting fixture. I could play, all summer on a baseball team, and my back was more solid, my arms were bigger. I could build a campfire, and fix a computer and throw a spiral.

And yet my body couldn't cut me a fucking break, and let me grow two, maybe three more inches.

I examined the height of the heel of my shoe. I promptly felt like an idiot, groaned, and grabbed my backpack. I tucked my headphones into my ears, and thought, blithely, about picking up saxophone lessons.

Another year, same old same old.

 **October 31st 2006**

I didn't want to think about last year's Halloween at all this year. I wasn't going to Gerald's damn basketball party, that was for sure. Where he'd have both friends and Phoebe and I'd have exactly no one and I'd still be 5' 7".

Grandma had offered me to hand out candy, and Grandpa had offered a scary movie. 17, and hanging out with my Grandparents on the biggest party night of the year. I didn't want to, but I ended up glancing at the photos Phoebe had put on MySpace of the year before. Helga and her shimmering dress and big smile and feeling like my heart was ready to beat out and also like the biggest loser on the face of the planet.

I had barely seen her so far this school year. Phoebe told me she was going to class regularly, and was bringing her grades up back to what they needed to be.

She hadn't ditched Mike though, that's what Lila said.

I had a feeling Lila had to know about me and any wayward feelings towards Helga and somehow that just made the entire thing so much worse. It was humiliating enough, the crush, and people knowing about it? Even worse.

Especially because now everyone knew I wasn't even going to do something about it, somehow the worst of all.

I shut my computer down, and just went to bed.

 **November 9th 2006**

I saw Lila first, sparing her a comforting smile around my locker. She had a sweet smile on her face, hair tucked behind one ear. I shut my locker door, hoisting my over-filled backpack on to my shoulder.

"Hey, Lil-" i turned to greet her officially, and my voice died on my tongue when I saw Helga for the first time that school year. She barely looked different, same height, same wide mouth and big eyes and thick eyebrows. She had on a regular outfit for her, a band t-shirt I didn't know and jeans. Her hair was parted down the middle, pushed back behind either ear. "Hi, Helga."

"Arnold," she nodded cordially. She looked less tired than she had last year, and she had a backpack, which was probably a good sign all around. Helga had no use throwing away her future on some dumb guy. "You look good," she commented, eyes flickering down to my arms then back to my eyes. Or I might have imagined that in my delusional teenage boy fantasy world. It was difficult to tell, at times.

"You do too," I smiled, shoving my hands in my pockets. "How was chem lab?" I asked Lila because I truly didn't know what else to do. Helga's eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my face and I had no idea why she was looking at me at all considering she had all but cut me out a few months prior. I had no idea what I was supposed to feel about her, but mostly I was mad. She ditched all of her friends, myself included, and wanted to just waltz back in being beautiful? It was annoying. It was annoying that there was no Helga in his English class this year, and I was trying, trying so damn hard to make Rebecca, who sat behind me and passed me funny notes about Mr. Fitzgerald and had curly hair and soft hands, even half as compelling as Helga. I wanted her to be as funny and as interesting and I wanted it so badly I was almost beginning to convince myself she was. I was trying, and here Helga was, dark blue rings at the corner of her eyes and a tiny scar under her chin, being herself, in front of me.

I realized, quite quickly, that I hadn't listened to a word Lila said.

 **December 12th 2006**

"Hey, Arnold." A voice called out to me when I made my way out to my car. I stopped, looking over my shoulder for the owner of that brash voice I knew so well. She was standing there, waving me down, and she was accompanied by Mike. Whom I had never had a conversation with. As far as I knew, no one had. He had his own jacket on that day, and she had on hers, pink and plaid and all sorts of other things.

I turned around, shoving my hands into my pockets, deeply regretting the moment I forgot to put on gloves this morning.

She had smudged mascara and her voice was hoarse, as if she had been yelling. Mike's hair looked wet somehow, and was flopping into his eyes. He was tall, a solid few inches on her, so a solid half a foot on me. I didn't want to stare up at him, so I avoided looking at him at all.

"Hey, guys…" I greeted awkwardly, shifting my backpack on my shoulder. "What's, uh u-"

"Date me," she interrupted with a broad, maddening smile.

"Uh." I blinked. Hard. I looked back and forth in between her and Mike. "Is this some kind of…"

"Why, do you want it to be?" Mike asked me, not sounding mocking.

I blinked again, feeling like a flashlight, because I was going for _joke_ in my mind, not whatever stuff Mike apparently got into.

"Enough, Michael, you'll scare him away." Helga's hands reached up and grabbed the open pieces of my coat. I felt my heart rate traitorously pick up. I really needed a girlfriend. A real one, not whatever Helga was about to drag me into. "Look: Arnold. Buddy."

"What do you want, Helga?" I asked in a flat, annoyed voice.

"There's this dumb Christmas party that my dad insists I bring a date to." Helga replied crossly, crossing her arms and stepping back from me. I regretted my tone, almost immediately. I squinted at her, before looking to Mike, baffled. "Well, duh," Helga said as though it were obvious, probably because it was "that's why it won't be like, a real date or anything. He's just really on my back right now about boys because hates Michael."

"With good reason," Mike shrugged. I had no idea what on Earth to pin this guy for, with his weirdly even complexion in the cold and casual black scarf.

"And you are the kindest person I know," she said earnestly, earning my eyes back on her. "And I thought you might-"

"Fine." I told her quickly before we had to provoke compliments any longer than strictly necessary because the first one already ripped a hole in my chest. "When and what time?"

 **December 23rd 2006**

"Ach," my hands were shaking and I could punch myself for it. Helga snorted as she looked up at me from her spot on her bed. She was applying sparkly stuff to her cheeks. I barely understood makeup, but I knew it was highlighter because youtube kept recommending me videos of girls doing their face. It was addicting after a while.

"Alright, alright." She stood up, dropping the brush on the comforter. It spattered little sparkly dust everywhere. My hands were twitching, and I dug out the poorly done knot I had made in my tie again. Something about tie tying made me incredibly anxious. This was something that was firmly marked into the "Dad" category. Something that...well…

I couldn't tie a goddamn tie, alright?

"Don't strangle yourself," she reached for my tie, and I jerked defensively away, like some kind of idiot. "Hey," she held up her hands, that they were empty, with a tiny smile. "Just me, alright?" She rolled her eyes, grabbing the tie from me. Her face was close to mine as she leaned down to tie it. I hated that she still had to lean down. I thought about standing on my toes, for only a moment, before shucking off the thought. Her mouth was set in concentration as she tied it, but I could hear her mind whirring. She was trying to think of something to say, I knew it. A joke. A joke that wasn't about my Dad. A joke that probably wasn't out there.

"Did your dad teach you how to tie a tie?" I asked quietly, shoving my hands in my pockets because I didn't know what to do with them.

"Nope," she popped the p. "He was too busy regretting the day I was born." She replied smartly, a snappy smile on her cheek. It made me laugh, at least. And maybe broke some of the tension I had mentally fabricated into the room. She was adjusting my collar now. If i were a different guy, I would just do it. I'd grab her waist, and I'd kiss her. She'd make some sort of small, soft, noise, but she'd kiss me, or at least, I thought she might. And then I would-

"Arnold." She repeated, and I jumped a little bit, because I hadn't even realized she stepped away. I fiddled with the edges of my shirt sleeve, feeling my face heat up as I ran my fingers over the button needlessly. "Ready?" She asked, holding her hand out.

I stared at it, then at her face, and then, with my dry mouth and nervous voice said "look, Helga. I think we, or maybe just for me, I don't know. But maybe Mike too, he'd probably like it if we, we, I mean, uh."

Helga crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow and I somewhat regretted not just taking her hand when I had the chance.

"Look:" I swallowed, sorting out my rambling "I think it'd be best if we just laid out some ground rules."

She snorted. "Okay, fine, Arnold. Rule Number One:" she picked up her coat and her purse from her bed, throwing them over her arm with an amused smirk in my direction "I'm not making up rules with you." She rolled her eyes, turning around. Her hair fell in shiny curls down her back, clearly the handiwork of her sister, home for the holidays. It fell just an inch before where the fabric of her dress hugged her skin. Her skin looked as soft as the silk of the light blue dress. She grabbed the handle of the door, old wood creaking as she opened it slowly, "rule one and one half:" she looked back at me, eye meeting mine. There was no smirk on her mouth, but the twinkle of amusement relentlessly shone in her eyes "don't fall in love with me."


End file.
